


Hothouse Flower

by QuickSilverFox3



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29378109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: Billy wakes up next to Goodnight, knowing their time together will come to an end, all too soon...
Relationships: Goodnight Robicheaux/Billy Rocks
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Hothouse Flower

**Author's Note:**

> Request from anon: Circus AU (18) and Florist AU (7) for Billy/Goodnight  
> [ My Tumblr!](https://inkformyblood.tumblr.com) Requests are always welcome!  
> [Trope mash up list!](https://inkformyblood.tumblr.com/post/615200731645050880/fanfiction-trope-mash-up)  
> 

The day dawned slowly, golden sunlight spilling through the gaps in the blinds Goodnight had yet to fix like honey. Billy woke, squinting at the window before he curled further into Goodnight’s side, stealing the blanket the other man held in loose fingers to pull it over his head.

“Really, cher?” Goodnight murmured, his voice rough with sleep and vibrating through Billy’s chest as he pulled him closer, throwing a leg over his hip. 

“It’s too early,” Billy grumbled. It was growing impossibly warm beneath the blanket despite the bite of frost in the air, his breath brushing against his cheek as he sighed. 

“My poor hothouse flower.” The mattress dipped as Goodnight shifted, raising himself up with an accompanying crack from his joints in protest. The kiss he pressed to Billy’s skin — exposed from his tangled nest of blankets — was feather-light and Billy sighed, curling his shoulder further to allow Goodnight further access.

It was a familiar ritual, something that still surprised them both after so long battling instability. Billy didn’t need to look at Goodnight to see the look on his face: the slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips, revealing the gold tooth he got as part of a drunken bet as a younger man; the creases at the corners of his eyes that only highlighted with his joy, almost drunk with it.

The trail of kisses followed the coiling tattoo emblazoned on Billy’s shoulder, a twisting mass of flowering vines and careful delicate flowers amidst barely hidden thorns. It was a careful mix of styles and colours, and yet it worked, all flowing together in a seamless work of art. 

Billy’s fingers were a hidden mass of scars beneath the ink and calluses: a blood payment to his garden he would say whenever the frown Goodnight wore ran too deep at the sight of the countless bandages that decorated his hands; but Goodnight still kissed every single one.

“However will I manage once you leave again?” Billy tried to keep his voice light, but he couldn’t help the bitter note that twisted through them. 

Goodnight sighed, a heavy world-weary sound, and carefully tugged the blanket free from Billy’s face. He smoothed a thumb across the curve of Billy’s cheekbone, and he turned to kiss the digit in silent apology. 

“Just one more round trip, then I’m retiring. It’s all been settled.” Goodnight grinned, leaning in to kiss Billy softly. They parted after several long minutes, everything slow and easy and familiar. “Besides, I’m sure you could have your pick of your horde of admirers.”

Billy swatted at him with a groan, Goodnight rolling with the blow as he laughed, landing on his feet as he tumbled off the bed. It had been a candid picture from one of Goodnight’s nieces that had drawn the world’s digital eye towards Billy, and he had become a sensation — as he rightly should in Goodnight’s humble opinion, but he was always met with a fond eye roll from their friends. 

“You going to tumble, and get us both some coffee?” Billy asked, wrapping himself back in the blanket and burying his face in Goodnight’s pillow, breathing in the familiar scent of gunpowder and artificial sweetness that clung to Goodnight even in the circus’ off season.

“You like my tumbling.” Goodnight winked, but obligingly turned a cartwheel as he passed through the door as Billy watched him with the same sense of pride and wonderment he had held when they first met. 

As he lay in bed, listening to the gentle noise of the early snow, it shifted to the remembered distant roar of a crowd as Goodnight carefully stepped out across the high wire — shimmering like something from an ancient legend and stealing Billy’s breath away — walking with such confidence it was almost unbelievable. It had been a disjointed courtship with Goodnight roaming with the circus, partially due to a favour to an old friend and partially as it annoyed his family, but it worked for them: letters exchanged at every stop, with a ferciousity that had surprised them both.

Getting up was an effort, the floor freezing beneath his bare feet and Billy bit back a hiss at the change in temperature. The scent of brewing coffee filled the air, mixing with the heady scent from the vases of flowers Billy had lined the stairs with. The petals brushed against his ankle as he made his way down the stairs, following the floating sound of Goodnight’s singing along to the crackling radio. 

Theirs was a strange relationship, but it worked, and they couldn’t be happier.


End file.
